A Woman in the Rain

The puddles have overcrowded the roads,
Singing symphonies of collected rain.
I watch the sky as my grey cloud explodes,
Washing away the city’s dirty pain.
I find that now the streets belong to me,
Sharing it with the random umbrella.
They hide the faces that I wish to see,
Protecting each individual’s flaw.
We can find safety in this day’s deluge
Of living up to the fashion’s standards.
The precipitation turns into rouge
Which from society’s sharp teeth, it guards.
The freedom I find here is most pleasing
By myself in Bangkok’s rainy season.

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